Entire Quidditch Finals
by Angel of now
Summary: This is Quidditch Finals on one page, no chapters.


Chapter 1: Be that way  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Ron, eat your breakfast. You can't fly on an empty stomach."  
  
  
  
"I should call you a hypocrite, but I'm too nice."  
  
  
  
Harry Potter, 16-year-old captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team,   
tried to get his best friend, Ron Weasley, Beater, to eat. His   
utensils, however, remained clean. It was June. Gryffindor, in second   
place for the Quidditch cup, was playing Hufflepuff for it. If they   
won, it would be their third win in a row, if you didn't could the year   
that nobody played. This was Harry's second year as Captain.   
Gryffindor's team had nearly completely changed. Only Harry and Katie   
Bell remained from the old team. Katie, Ginny Weasley, Ron's sister,   
and a third year named Penny Marvin were Chasers, Alicia Spinnet and   
Angelina Johnson having graduated. Ron and Seamus Finnigan were   
Beaters. Fred and George Weasley, Ron's twin brothers and previous   
Beaters had opened up their joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Harry   
was still Seeker, and Jacob Edwards, a fourth year, was Keeper.  
  
  
  
"Too nice? Since when have you been too nice?" demanded Harry   
teasingly.  
  
  
  
Their friend Hermione Granger came over. "Since Malfoy kissed   
Lavender."  
  
  
  
The boys snorted. But something about her tone made Ron ask,  
  
  
  
"When was that?"  
  
  
  
Hermione had a pained expression. "Two nights ago."  
  
  
  
They dropped their pumpkin juice. Harry looked over at the Slytherin   
table and saw Draco Malfoy glancing over and the Gryffindor table and   
winking at Lavender Brown.  
  
  
  
"Vachement," muttered Ron. "Something new to worry about. Wonder what   
she sees in him?"  
  
  
  
Hermione chuckled grimly. "Probably foresaw it ..."  
  
  
  
Harry glanced at his watch. No time to worry about it. "Quidditch time,   
c'mon, Ron, Ginny, team; let's go." They marched on to the field.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 2: Reunion  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Ron dear! Harry, Hermione, how are you?" They were enthusiasticly by   
the Weasleys. Chubby Mrs. Weasley gave them all hugs, tall Mr. Weasley   
slapped Ron on the back, Percy cordially shook their hands. Harry was   
very happy to see they wore new robes.  
  
  
  
"Where's Fred and George?" Ron asked his father.  
  
  
  
"Couldn't get away. Their buisness is thriving." Harry couldn't help   
notice a faint annoyed tone in Mr. Weasley's voice. He had wanted his   
sons to work for the Ministry of Magic, but the twins had had other   
plans. "They make 25 galleons a day. They give five to us, so we could   
get new robes and things."  
  
  
  
"Yes, they wanted to give 10 a day, but we wouldn't have it," Mrs.   
Weasley put in. "We don't know whether they're trying to bribe us or   
not."  
  
  
  
"And Bill and Charlie?" Hermione wanted to know.  
  
  
  
"Busy as well. Goodness knows *I* shouldn't have been able to get away,   
but Candance Clearwater, Penny's sister, is covering for me. Our office   
is quite busy; some Frenchmen have been selling Invisible Steel tipped   
quills, what a hazard, and we have been trying--"  
  
  
  
"Yes, and speaking of Bill," broke in Mr. Weasley, before Percy could   
get too carried away. Ron, did you hear? He's getting married! On   
Halloween!"  
  
  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
  
  
"He's engaged to Korina Figg, Arabella Figg's adopted German daughter.   
The wedding is in Wizard London, at St. George Chapel on Maniac Alley.   
I believe Mrs. Figg lives near you, Harry, so Bill may be dropping by   
once in a while. And you two are invited, of course." Harry was   
unspeakably happy. Visits from Bill? Maybe his summers wouldn't be TOO   
bad.  
  
  
  
"Well, congratulations to him!" cried Hermione.  
  
  
  
A whistle blew sharply. Harry and Ron scurried off to the locker rooms   
to change and give a pep talk.  
  
  
  
"Alright, team," began Harry. "As you know, we need this game to win   
the Quidditch cup. If we tie ("Unlikely," whispered Seamus to Ron.   
"With Harry as Seeker.") we will lose the cup, since Hufflepuff is in   
first place for it. So just do your best and we won't have a problem!   
Beaters, try the Bludger Backbeat; you're good at it, and I don't think   
Hufflepuff knows any of our moves. Chasers, the Hawkshead Attacking   
Formation will do well for you, and Huff's Chasers like Parkin's   
Pincer, so the Porskoff Ploy will do well there. (A.N: For the   
definition of these moves, get Quidditch Through the Ages bye   
Kennilworthy Whisp (it actually exists!).) Jacob, you excel with the   
Double Eight Loop, you should use it."  
  
  
  
"Woof!" replied Jacob. (A.N: Jacob is the name of my dog.)  
  
  
  
"Alright!" shouted Ron and Seamus.  
  
  
  
"C'mon, let's get 'em!!" cried Penny Marvin.  
  
  
  
"Go team!" yelled Harry, and running and shouting, brooms under arms,   
they raced onto the field.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 3: Wronski Feint  
  
  
  
  
Harry and his team marched proudly onto the field, brooms in hand, the   
reserve players trailing behind them.  
  
  
  
"And now, Gryffindor team, in second place!" The crowds erupted.   
Harry recognized that voice. He saw the Weasleys waving proudly at him   
from the stands, waving little scarlet flags. "Sixth year captain   
Harry Potter, leading an almost totally remodeled team! Including two   
more Weasleys, and a keeper that looks a little hairy . . ." Harry now   
remembered who that voice belonged to. It was Lee Jordan, returning to   
commentate on the last match. "Harry Potter, seeker and two-year   
Captain, is considered to be one of the best Captains Hogwarts has   
seen, up there with Oliver Wood! And speaking of Wood, he's back —"  
  
  
  
"Harry! How's it going?"  
  
  
  
Harry spun around. Oliver Wood was jogging up to him, dressed in the   
striped referee's robes, and carrying a broom and a silver whistle.   
(Lee Jordan went on: "Oh, yeah . . . here are the Hufflepuffs, led by   
Sally-Ann Perks. Harry Potter's team also consists of . . . ")  
  
  
  
"Oliver! What ARE you doing here?"  
  
  
  
"I'm refereeing, Harry! And I'm Flying Master next year, too! Madam   
Hooch retired. I believe her exact reasons were, 'Students flying too   
high, and acting up all the time! In my generation, children listened   
to their elders!' I think her generation was about eighty years ago."  
  
  
  
Harry had to laugh, but asked sternly, "You won't be too   
pro-Gryffindor, will you?"  
  
  
  
"Not a chance in Muggle London. Dumbledore gave this huge talk —"  
  
  
  
"OLIVER!" screeched Katie Bell, dashing over and gripping Wood in a   
giant's hug. "Where have you been?!" He struggled to make her let go.  
  
  
  
"Well, I played for the Chudley Cannons for a while, then decided it   
was too hopeless a case. Ron glared at him. Harry noticed the   
Hufflepuffs' impatient glares, and pointed it out to Wood. He nodded,   
then blew his whistle shrilly.  
  
  
  
"All right team, let's win this Cup! We can do it!" Harry leapt onto   
his broom, and the others followed suit.  
  
  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
  
  
"Let's get 'em!"  
  
  
  
"Yahoo!"  
  
  
  
"Woof!"  
  
  
  
The game went smoothly. Gryffindor gained the lead early on, Katie   
scoring the most goals, being the most senior Chaser. Only three goals   
got through Jacob, two of them penalty shots. Harry and Sally-Ann   
Perks (on a Nimbus 1700) spotted the Snitch at the same moment twice,   
and Harry bumped her both times and gave the Hufflepuffs the penalty   
shots. (Sally-Ann was a ex-friend of Cho's, who, after Harry and Cho   
brief dating period, had convinced her to dump him.) The Gryffindor's   
noticed that the penalty whistle blasts always came a little late, as   
Wood was unwilling to the Hufflepuffs extra shots. Though, good as he   
was, Jacob couldn't beat their prime Chaser, but it hardly mattered.   
  
Right before the end of the game, Gryffidor was in the lead, 140-30.  
  
  
  
Harry saw the Snitch, glittering at the end of the field where   
Sally-Ann was. She hadn't noticed it, though; she was aiding one of   
her teammates who had gotten mauled by a Bludger. While she was taken   
to Madam Pomfrey and a reserve Beater came on, Harry decided to once   
again make history. He would be the first Hogwarts student to perform   
the Wronski Feint.  
  
  
  
He zipped around a little, to catch the opposing Seeker's attention,   
  
swooped and DOVE. Sally-Ann hurtled after him, matched his angle   
  
(Harry was going slower than he could have, so she could catch up), and   
  
neck in neck they plumeted, Harry's broom going one way and his stomach   
the other.  
  
  
  
Fifty-forty-thirty feet, twenty - ~PULL UP NOW!!~ Harry screeched at   
himself. He got his broom handle up, then   
  
  
  
WHAM! CRACK!  
  
  
  
Sally-Ann had realized what Harry was doing, and pushed off of him,   
sending him faster than ever the the ground, where he now lay, his head   
at a strange angle.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 4: Infirmary  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry woke up, feeling nauseous. All he could see was white. He   
waited for it to clear up, but he fell asleep before it did.  
  
  
  
A few hours later, he woke up again, in a different bed in the hospital   
wing. Slowly he turned his head, and saw another bed shrouded in a   
white mist -- apparently what he had been in before. Harry could   
barely move his arms and head, and his legs not at all.  
  
  
  
Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "Sleep, sleep! You need your rest."   
Harry saw a small glint of worry in her eyes, and was instantly   
terrified. Through all of his strange injuries, she had been her busy,   
impersonal self. If she was even slightly worried, Harry must have   
very little hope. But for having small chances, he felt alright. Just   
-- deadened, floaty, dull: not quite there. Harry relaxed a little.  
  
  
  
Madam Pomfrey waved a flower under his nose. He started to fall   
asleep. "Wait!" he cried. "What happened to me?"  
  
  
  
"You broke your back, neck, and leg. You'll be alright." But Harry   
noticed she said that rather half-heartedly. He fell asleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
~ * ~ * ~  
  
  
  
  
  
Talk filtered through the halls. Tension had flooded people's minds   
like a river after a rainstorm. Students whispered in the dormitories,   
hallways, and classrooms: "Harry Potter?" "He broke his neck!"   
"Again?" "No, not again! He's NEVER been hurt this bad!"  
  
  
  
The Slytherins were beside themselves with glee. Draco Malfoy was   
telling anyone who'd listen (just Pansy Parkinson) that he knew that   
Harry Potter would eventually come to this. (Parvati had broken up   
with him when the jerk started laughing about how Harry looked, lying   
on the ground.)  
  
  
  
The whole school was buzzing. Famous Harry Potter -- crippled.  
  
  
  
Famous Harry Potter lay in the hospital wing, day after day. Madam   
Pomfrey tried potion after potion, she tried spell after spell, trying,   
to no avail, to fix his back. She had struggled to mend his neck while   
he was unconscious, and the leg was easy, but Harry back just wouldn't   
heal. Pretty soon Harry lost hope. He thought he would never move his   
legs again. But his nurse would not give up that easily.  
  
  
  
Everyone Harry knew visited him twice a week, often more. Hermione and   
Ron saw him twice a day, and they would have come more often, but Madam   
Pomfrey would not have it. "How can you expect this boy to heal if he   
can rest? Now, OUT!"  
  
  
  
Over Harry's month's imprisonment in the hospital wing, Ron and   
Hermione became quite close. Worried, friendly meetings in Hogsmeade   
turned into romantic dates. Harry knew nothing of this.  
  
  
  
McGonagal announced in class that there was another Hogsmeade trip   
coming up. "And I hope you all have successfully transfigured a stone   
into an ice creme cone before you go! This will count in your exams!   
Dean Thomas, see me after class. Your cone is rock solid and would   
break the teeth of any person foolish enough to try and eat it."  
  
  
  
Hermione had no intention of going, of course. Her ice cream cone had   
a small chip, and she needed to fix it. But Ron met her outside the   
classroom, and kissed her lightly on the cheek, and she just dissolved.  
  
  
  
"Are you going to Hogsmeade, Hermione?" he asked. He smiled. How she   
loved that smile! It was the same as the cocky grin, but somehow the   
wild-haired red-head always made it to suit the occasion.  
  
  
  
"Oh, alright, Ron," she sighed. "Let's go see Harry, then stop by the   
library. I do believe you need to work on your Panpot Charm ..."  
  
  
  
He laughed. The Panpot Charm turned iron cooking utensils into gold,   
and five seconds later, back again with a bang -- a completely useless   
spell.  
  
  
  
Hand in hand, Ron and Hermione walked up to the hospital wing to see   
Harry.  
  
  
  
  
~ * ~ * ~  
  
  
  
  
An owl swooped into Sirius's cave, dropped a letter, and swooped out.   
He grabbed it and tore open the envelope with his teeth. Under the   
Hogwarts crest, a note read:  
  
  
  
"Dear Sirius,  
  
"I hope all goes well with you and Buckbeak. I am   
fine, though Fawkes has a small pimple ... I think the second week   
after rebirth is always the hardest ...  
  
"Harry still remains no worse, and also no better.   
Minerva McGonagal and I have created a contraptiony thingamabob and   
would like you to come to Hogwarts to sort out some details.  
  
  
  
Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus,  
  
Dumbledore."  
  
  
  
Sirius snorted. Buckbeak looked up from his rabbit carcass.   
Dumbledore wanted him to come to "sort out some details." The Azkaban   
escapee knew perfectly well that Dumbledore had the "contraptiony   
thingamabob" totally finished and ready for Harry's use. He just   
wanted Sirius to be there to see it, and for Harry's moral support. So   
five minutes later, a big, friendly black dog snuck under a trapdoor in   
the cellar of Honeydukes.  
  
  
  
Albus Dumbledore met Sirius in the Great Hall. Three Ravenclaw second   
years would wonder about their Headmaster's pet's sudden appearance and   
disappearance for a while, but no one else was present. In   
Dumbledore's office, Sirius saw that several of the portraits of past   
Headmasters looked rather irritated.  
  
  
  
"The haven't been getting much sleep. I've been working on this." He   
handed Harry's godfather what looked like just a jumble of steel rods   
and leather straps, but when straightened out, looked like they could   
hold a pair of legs. "They stretch to any size," Dumbledore went on.   
"They respond to your mind, like real legs. You can walk, sit, climb   
stairs or ladders, lie down -- they are very flexible, but not fast."  
  
  
  
"Well, still better than being paralyzed in the hospital wing. Could   
he grip a broomstick with these?"  
  
  
  
Silence. Sirius turned to look at Dumbledore. There was no happy   
twinkle in his eyes. "No," he said slowly. "Unless he gets a miracle,   
Harry will never fly again."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 5: Denial  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry walked slowly down the hall to Charms, with Ron and Hermione, his   
  
joints softly clicking. They were late again. All of Harry's teachers   
  
except Snape allowed for Harry's often tardiness, and all but Professor   
  
McGonagal forgave Ron and Hermione's lateness as well. In a painting   
  
of a medieval town, peasants giggled and pointed at Harry, but a priest   
  
shushed him.  
  
  
  
Not one of them could think of what to say. Harry had walked in on   
  
Ron and Hermione kissing the other day and he hadn't said much to them   
  
since.  
  
  
  
As they entered the classroom, Professor Flitwick was explaining the   
  
Assembling Charm, while handing out wooden blocks. "Make a figure   
  
eight very rapidly with your wand, and softly shout, 'Genecio'! Ah,   
  
hello, boys, and Hermione. Please take your seats. Seamus will   
  
explain this to you." He bustled off to help Neville, who had not   
  
failed to set himself on fire in the first five minutes of class.  
  
  
  
"Genecio!" Hermione softly shouted, and that it was possible to softly   
  
shout amazed Harry, and he worked all class trying to figure out how   
  
she did it. A perfect model of the Eiffel Tower stood before Hermione.   
  
Ron and Seamus fooled around all class, racing each other to build the   
  
tallest tower, then knocking them over, wands abandoned. Harry worked   
  
diligently and finally got his blocks to clump in a shapeless pile.  
  
  
  
As they strolled out of Charms and down the staircase to Potions, a red   
  
headed blur whooshed up it. It shot past them, rocketing up and up.   
  
Harry heard several screams and saw books dropping.  
  
  
  
Fred Weasley, panting heavily, jumped up the stairs after it, laughing.   
  
"Hi! George gave himself WingFeet and I've gotta catch him or Filch   
  
will have a fit. What's the counterjinx, Hermione?" and he   
  
disappeared.  
  
  
  
"Decelera!" she shouted.  
  
  
  
"Ron, why are they still here? What happened to Weasley's Wizard   
  
Wheezes?" asked Harry, looking ahead.  
  
  
  
"Oh -- like the food too much, I think. Didn't want to leave after   
  
your match against Ravenclaw. Yeah, that's right, Mum sent Ginny an   
  
owl, telling her to look after them. They're taking a Halloween   
  
vacation."  
  
  
  
Harry's lip trembled a little. He hated being reminded of that match,   
  
and flying even. "Need -- to use -- the bathroom," and limped off.  
  
  
  
"Ron!" "What did I say?"  
  
  
  
~ * ~ * ~  
  
  
  
Harry avoided them all day: he skipped Potions and sat far away from   
  
his friends in all of his other classes. He spent all evening in the   
  
library and kitchens, and got his breakfast to eat cold tomorrow   
  
morning. He wanted nothing to do with anybody. He shoved Colin   
  
Creevey to the ground when he "Hi, Harry"ed him for the seventh time,   
  
and ran off as fast as he could. For the next week, all the   
  
Gryffindors stopped talking and walked quickly when they heard the   
  
giveaway creaking. Finally Hermione decided to do something.  
  
  
  
"Ron, we've GOT to get Harry back. He's been moping for the past two   
  
weeks!"  
  
  
  
Ron wasn't too jubilant himself. He and Hermione had seemed to stop   
  
dating, and Harry had really started to annoy him. "Why? His problem,   
  
his life! What about you and me? It's always Harry, Harry, Harry!   
  
Ever since he was born!"  
  
  
  
Hermione slapped him. "You jerk! Harry's your best friend. Don't you   
  
care?" and stalked off.  
  
  
  
Ron sat and fumed. Then he sat and thought. Finally he dashed down   
  
the stairs, and found his girlfriend sitting in the common room,   
  
watching the fire. "Hermy, I'm sorry. You're right. And I do care.   
  
Let's find Harry, and talk to him, okay?"  
  
  
  
She started to cry a little. But then she gasped and left the   
  
fireside. When Ron cried out, "Where are you going?!" she was already   
  
out the portrait hole.  
  
  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
  
  
"Bill's wedding! It's *GASP* next Sunday! *GASP* Harry doesn't know, or   
  
he *GASP* forgot!" 


End file.
